


tricks and more tricks

by kissteethstainred



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Between Blue Lily Lily Blue and The Raven King, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, heterosexual RIGHTS, i think, this is very random i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 11:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19723150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissteethstainred/pseuds/kissteethstainred
Summary: Orla said, “I think I have a solution to your Maura problem.”Blue glanced up at her. “My Maura problem?”“Yeah. You know, where you wanted to go to Washington, D.C., and ended up lying your ass off about a boyfriend.”





	tricks and more tricks

**Author's Note:**

> so, lol.
> 
> i began this fic in 2015 (YEAH, i know) and it is now very much 4 years later. but part of my 2019 goal was to finish every wip i had, and so this has been completed
> 
> even in 2015 i was shocked that i was writing a bluesey fic rather than a pynch one, because i'm infinitely more obsessed with pynch, even now. also i was very much into orla & blue having an actual friendship. the brain does what it wants, the writer puts it off for 4 years. you know how it is
> 
> title is from blue lily, lily blue

It had been decided by everyone that Blue was to be dropped off by Gansey. 

Adam couldn’t spare the use of gas for extra miles, especially when his money only spread so far and Blue’s house was so far away. Ronan couldn’t spare any energy or time to drive Blue to her house. Noah didn’t have a car, and besides, they worried about him flickering out in the middle of driving . Thus, the responsibility had fallen to Gansey. Before, it had been somewhat awkward, as Blue had felt like a hassle, but now it was something they particularly enjoyed: established alone time that they didn’t have to make excuses for or feel guilty about.

Blue had just finished talking about her economics class and the dull teacher when Gansey said, “You’re taking psychology this year, right?”

Blue shifted her bag in her lap, gave Gansey a quizzical look, and said, “Yes, but not until next semester. Why?” 

“Do you have the textbook?”

“Yes,” Blue said, drawing out the vowel. 

“I was hoping that you’d allow me to read it,” Gansey replied, as if that were normal. 

Blue asked, voice not quite hiding her disbelief, “You want to read my _psychology textbook_?” 

“Not all of it, Jane, don’t be ridiculous,” Gansey said, and Blue huffed at the notion that she was the ridiculous one here. “Just the chapter on dreams. Ronan’s having a bit of trouble with his magic, and I’m hoping that there’s something on the biological side that can help me help Ronan. Or maybe help him understand his dreaming a little better.” 

Blue said, “Of course you can read it,” picking at some fluff on her shorts and dropping it out the window. “That’s a very logical idea,” Blue said, “and I can’t tell if it was a Gansey thought or an Adam thought.” 

Gansey laughed, cutting her a pleased glance. “I came up with the idea of researching dreams, Adam said you had the psych book, Ronan called us losers. The usual way we come to logical conclusions.” 

Blue shook her head fondly. “I’ll give it to you tomorrow. I might have to unearth it from an unholy amount of crap in my closet.” 

“I don’t need it immediately,” Gansey said, and Blue didn’t know why that made her want to roll her eyes, but it felt good to do. She figured that she needed to roll her eyes around Gansey after a certain amount of time or it just didn’t feel right. 

After a rather remarkable pause, Gansey said, “By the way, Jane.”

Blue snorted. “That was the most uncomfortable opening I’ve ever heard in my life. And you started off rather horribly, if you remember correctly.” 

“I usually try and forget it,” Gansey said, his voice tilting with discomfort. Blue almost laughed. “Anyways, what I was going to say earlier—would you like to come to D.C. with me?”

Blue was startled by the question, and she looked to Gansey in surprise. “Really? D.C.?” Gansey only nodded, and Blue sat back in the seat, pleased. “How many of us are going?” she asked. 

“Well, all of us,” Gansey said hesitantly, like he thought Blue might be mad about it. “Adam likes to go there for practice, you know, he likes to make connections with people. I’m pretty sure Ronan is only going because he gets to skip school—he loathes Washington and anything to do with it. And I invited you because you said you wanted to go, or be invited, at least, so here I am, inviting you.”

“Thanks for going through the trouble,” Blue said dryly. Gansey, for once, didn’t seem offended by this in his usual Gansey-misses-everything-young-and-teenager-like fashion. “Is Noah coming? Since I’m there, he might be able to appear. Oh, wait, no ley line. Never mind.”

“There are ley lines everywhere,” Gansey replied easily. It sounded so natural and carefree that it almost implied _there are sleeping kings everywhere, there’s magic everywhere, there’s adventures everywhere, there are searching and curious teens like us everywhere_. Blue knew that those must also be true, and it sent a small thrill down her back. “And Noah always manages to surprise us, so. We’ll see.” 

Soon after they passed the closest gas station to Blue’s house, so she gathered her bag together in her lap. “It’s gonna be exciting,” Blue said, smiling. The Henrietta weather, for once, was complying with their wishes—sunny enough to be warm, but nothing too uncomfortable, and with a slight breeze to cool down. Or maybe it was Cabeswater, answering their calls, thanking them. Blue could never be sure. “Not as exciting as looking for old Glendower, of course,” Blue added, and Gansey burst out laughing. “But exciting nonetheless.” 

Gansey stopped in front of 300 Fox Way, putting the car in park. Blue gathered her pack on her shoulder, pushing the car door open. Gansey jerked forward, sudden and quick, and grabbed her hand. Blue didn’t know what to do in her shock—they _agreed_ , they didn’t do this, only at midnight between desperate breaths over the phone—but then Gansey only squeezed once, smiling at her, and pulled away with a, “Let me know your mother’s answer on D.C., okay?”

Blue shook her head, telling herself that D.C. was much more important than boys, and went inside to find her mother. 

\--

Maura gave a short, sharp laugh, clapping her hands together. “No, absolutely not,” she said. She pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders and glided away into the kitchen. 

Blue stood in her spot, unsure what to do. Her mother had hardly ever told her no to something Blue had wanted so badly—not because Blue was spoiled, but because Blue never asked for anything too extreme. Even this didn’t seem that extreme—she’d be with the boys, with Gansey’s rich parents. With both Gansey and Adam on their best behavior, she would be too. 

Blue struggled to move her feet, but she eventually followed Maura into the kitchen, where she was cutting up cherry tomatoes for a salad. “Can I ask _why_?” 

Maura popped a tomato into her mouth and said, slightly chipmunk-cheeked, “Blue, I hardly like letting you and those boys run around _Henrietta_ without adult supervision. Say what you want about the Ganseys, darling, but I know they aren’t there to supervise a group of teenagers. You four—or five—without adult supervision, running around D.C., a place considerably farther away than the woods outside—Blue. I know you’re set on giving me a premature heart attack, but please, keep the heart attacks within Henrietta reach.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Blue said hotly, feeling that saying “this is so unfair” sounded too much like a teenager. “This is the first time they’ve invited me to something like this, and—maybe D.C. isn’t the most spectacular place, but I would like to see the world one day! And, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re not going to be able to keep me in this house or this town for the rest of my life. I’m going to leave you one day and you’re going to have to deal with it.” 

Maura had visibly stiffened, her tomato chopping increasing in ferocity. Blue almost couldn’t believe that so much bite had come out of her own mouth, much less to her _mother_. Maura said, “My final answer was, and remains, no.” Blue deflated, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. Maura put the knife down and, turning around, her shawl spinning behind her, said, “If you’re so upset, why don’t you have your friends over?” 

Blue gaped. “Seriously? You think that having my friends over compares to going to Washington D.C.?” Maura just copied Blue’s stance, crossing her arms over her chest, an eyebrow raised. Blue scowled at the mimicry. “Have you forgotten that they’ve already been over before? Not exactly exciting stuff.” 

“They’ve been over for a small amount of time every time they do come over,” Maura said. “Or it’s for some Glendower, magical-related issue. I like to think this house has a much different atmosphere when me and the girls throw a party.” 

_Oh, god_ , Blue thought, _they’re throwing a party_. “You want to throw a party for me and my friends?” Blue asked in disbelief. 

Maura smiled. “See, I _told_ you it was a good idea.” She gave Blue a tiny smirk and then turned back around to her salad. 

Blue was angry that her mother had beaten her, and in her horrible rashness and need to win any competition with her mother, Blue blurted out, “Fine, but I get to bring my boyfriend.” 

The knife dropped with a clatter, and Maura turned around, looking considerably less smug. “You have a boyfriend?” she asked, tone sharp at the edges. 

Blue tilted her chin up. “Yes,” she said, forcing herself to be as confident as possible. “And if we’re inviting all my friends, I think he should come.” 

Maura’s hands gripped the counter. “You’re being particularly contrary today, Blue.” 

Blue shrugged. “Either I go to D.C. or the boyfriend comes over.” Almost immediately, Blue wanted to take it back, but she could see from Maura’s delighted expression that she’d already dug the hole too deep. 

Maura laughed. “Oh, is that all? Fine, the boyfriend can come. Is this Saturday night fine?”

Saturday was only in three days. Blue felt a headache coming on. “It’s very short notice,” Blue said flatly. 

Maura’s grin was almost catlike. “Well, if you can dump your life here to go to D.C., I’m sure your friends can make it to one little house party.”

Blue could think of nothing to say, and Maura clearly thought the conversation was over, because she picked up her salad and left the room. 

Blue refused to stomp her feet and slam the door, so she clenched her fists and went outside to calm herself down. 

\--

Later that night, after Blue ate a solitary dinner to spite her mother, a knock came on the door. Blue looked up from where she was cutting into her shirt, lowering her music volume a little. “Who is it?” she asked, not in the mood for one of her mother’s talks. 

To her surprise, it was the last person she expected. “Blue, I’m coming in,” Orla said, and two seconds later, she did. Blue gave her a pointed look when she didn’t close the door, and Orla rolled her eyes but complied. 

Blue watched Orla sit on Blue’s bed, noticing how even Orla’s pajamas seemed bright and fashionable. At the sight of them, Blue cut her shirt with a little bit more vigor. “So, what brought you to my room?” Blue asked.

“Devious, devious things, Blue,” Orla said, grinning at her. 

Blue stopped her cutting and shot Orla a look. “If this is about drama at school, I don’t want to know.”

“That’s a lie, you always want to know.”

Which, alright, that was true. Blue sighed and said, “I don’t want to know _right now_.” 

Orla shrugged one shoulder. “That’s fine. I didn’t come here to talk about that.”

Blue held up the shirt, examining the back and front. She flattened it back down and began cutting at the sleeves. When Orla didn’t continue talking, Blue looked up. Orla was examining her fingernail polish with practiced nonchalance. Blue rolled her eyes, cutting at the other sleeve, and said with fake cheer, “Oh, Orla, do tell me what you know.” 

“Why, Blue, I’m so glad you asked,” Orla replied with equal fake cheer. For a moment, they exchanged a fond glance, a glance that held memories of trick or treating together and pointing out boys Orla could possibly kiss. “I think I have a solution to your Maura problem.”

Blue glanced up at her. “My Maura problem?”

“Yeah. You know, where you wanted to go to Washington, D.C., and ended up lying your ass off about a boyfriend.”

Blue scowled—she never knew how Orla always knew this shit. “How do you know I’m lying? Maybe I really do have a boyfriend.”

Orla snorted. “Please. The only people you hang out with are those four boys. I’d know if you were dating someone.”

Blue put the shirt and scissors down, leaning back on her hands. “Fine. What’s your almighty solution to the wreck of a night that’s going to be Saturday night?”

“It’s simple. Bring a boyfriend.” 

Blue closed her eyes for a brief moment and took a deep breath. “I thought the whole point of you pointing out the exact number of friends I have proved that I didn’t have a boyfriend.” 

“Which, yes, true, but they are connected to my plan.” Orla leaned in like they were sharing a huge secret. “You should bring one of them as your boyfriend.” 

A laugh burst out of Blue, incredulous and sharp. “ _What_?” 

“You’re mad at Maura for not letting you go to D.C. Why not make her mad in return by bringing one of those Aglionby boys as your boyfriend?” Orla glanced over at the door. “It’s easiest this way. Those boys know you the best, you can make up stuff.” Orla waved a hand in the air. “You can work out the kinks later. But you know this plan would work. All my plans do.” 

Blue put her head in her hands for a moment, trying to follow the twists and turns Orla had taken to get _here_. “Which one would I even fake-date?”

Orla shrugged, examining her nail polish again. This time the attention seemed genuine. “Well, certainly not Adam. One, you two already dated, and two, they like him. He wouldn’t work.” 

Blue looked at Orla through her fingers. “How do you know they like him?”

Orla’s mouth curled at the corners. “Coca-Cola shirt, right?” she asked innocently. “He’s their favorite, I’m pretty sure. Definitely a no go. Why not the other attractive one, the snake with the tattoos?”

Blue snorted. “In theory, yes. But Ronan and I can hardly even tolerate each other as friends sometimes—I don’t think we’d be able to handle fake dating. It would fall to pieces.” Orla held up two fingers, so Blue continued, “And Noah is an absolute sweetheart. There’s no way he would make her angry.”

Orla shrugged, her smile turning something wicked as she dropped her fingers down to one. Her hair slipped over her shoulder in an artful wave. “I guess that only leaves Gansey left, doesn’t it?”

Blue stared at her devious smile, thought about her faked indifference for the majority of the conversation, and bristled. “Orla, how the fuck did you figure it out?”

“Figure what out?”

“That I like Gansey,” Blue said through gritted teeth. Orla’s smile got even more mischievous, and in answer, she tapped her temple twice with a finger. “Orla, seriously,” Blue added. 

“Psychic abilities coupled with eyes,” Orla said. She laid down on her stomach, her elbows on the bed, so that she could be closer to Blue. “That’s besides the point. You know Gansey would be the best fit.”

“Orla, this is not funny.” 

Orla huffed. “Will you listen to me? Gansey is perfect because he can piss them off without trying. Not in a bad way—Gansey tries to be good, but he’ll piss them off anyways. And they’ll be even more mad because they know he’s trying to be good, so they can’t tell him off for it.” Orla ran a hand through her hair. “Plus, he’s rich and raised in all that privileged stuff, so he can occasionally come off condescending”—Blue snorted, which caused Orla to grin—“and Maura will be fucking _pissed_ if she finds out you’re dating the guy she specifically said not to be around in case you kissed him.” 

A hollow pain shot through Blue’s stomach. She turned away from Orla, her anger subsiding under a wave of sadness, and she hid her face from Orla’s view by picking up the shirt and going over to the closet. “Orla,” Blue said, the hardness in her voice masking her hurt, “I am not going to use my curse to fake date someone to make another person mad. That’s—anything but that.”

“I’m not asking you to kiss him,” Orla said, tone slightly more sympathetic. “I’m just saying, parade him in front of Maura, get him to spout some Welsh king stuff, and then move on with your life.”

By the point Blue believed that she had collected herself enough to face Orla, so she turned back around, her hands on her hips. “Orla, it’s just too much.” 

Orla seemed disappointed for a moment, before the expression washed off her face. She sat up, brushing out the messiness of her hair with her fingers, and then got off the bed. “Just think about it,” Orla said, “and decide which is worse: having him pretend to date you for three hours, or explaining to Maura that you don’t, in fact, have a boyfriend, and be humiliated on top of not being able to go to D.C.?”

Blue groaned. She must really be tired or delusional, because Orla’s Orla-logic actually sounded, well, logical. 

“You should make your decision quickly,” Orla said. “You have three days.” With one last smile, Orla left the room, closing the door softly behind her. A very faint smell of perfumed lotion stayed in her wake. 

Blue groaned again and collapsed on the bed. 

\--

Blue waited until Adam and Ronan were preoccupied out by the Pig to ask Gansey. “So, I kind of have a favor,” Blue started, watching Gansey search through the papers on his desk. 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Gansey said absentmindedly, flipping through a book before tossing it away. 

“Gansey, seriously,” Blue said, trying to calm her fluttering stomach. “It has to do with D.C.”

Gansey glanced up at her, his glasses farther down on his nose. He pushed them back up, but they only slipped lower again when he returned to searching through the desk drawers. “I meant to ask you about that, since you never told me your mother’s answer before.”

Blue nervously picked at her beaded shirt. “That’s because she told me I couldn’t go.”

Gansey paused and looked over at her, startled. “Maura told you no?”

“Yes, which is why we’re having the party on Saturday,” Blue said. She’s told the group as soon as she’d met with them. Gansey and Adam seemed genuinely pleased to go, Noah was excited, and Ronan glanced at all of them before sighing and agreeing. 

Gansey nodded, pulling out a stack of papers to rifle through them. He frowned at them, paused mid-rifle, and looked at her. “So what’s your favor?”

“At the party on Saturday, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

It sounded absolutely cringe-worthy just saying out loud, and some part of Blue couldn’t believe that she and Gansey really were so similar. Gansey horribly asked Blue out for Adam, and Blue horribly asked Gansey to fake-date her. 

Gansey had frozen, licking his lips. Blue fidgeted, waiting for an answer—maybe she should have just taken Maura’s humiliation—but then Gansey said quietly, “And why do we need to fake date?”

He already seemed so saddened by the thought that Blue couldn’t tell him the truth, or at least Orla’s plan: that he was being used to anger Maura. “I think it will help me convince her to let me go to D.C. with everyone.” 

Gansey nodded, looking back at the papers. He found the map he was looking for, because he made a small “Aha!” sound and shook it in the air, like some ancient scientist yelling “Eureka!” Blue had to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing. 

“Let’s go,” Gansey said, sounding much more perked up, and steered her out of Monmouth. When they hit the bottom step, Gansey said, “I’ll do it, if you really think it will help.”

Blue breathed out a small, “Thank you.”

Gansey grinned, suddenly sharp and wicked, too similar to Ronan for Blue’s liking. “But you can tell everyone else,” he said, and Blue cursed him.

Blue didn’t mention the fake-dating until they were returning from a day of exploring the prime areas of magic in Cabeswater, led by Adam and Ronan. They were tired and dirty and hot, and for once, Blue was glad to be squashed up against Noah, since he was providing her with a blissful chill. 

Everyone was quiet, besides the Pig itself, so Blue just said, “About Saturday.”

“We’re all coming to your lame witches’ party,” Ronan said immediately. 

“It’s not that,” Blue said, shifting her scowl so that it was facing him. He bared his teeth at her in the side mirror in response. “Just, on Saturday, you’re all going to have to act like Gansey and I are a couple.”

Adam, who had previously been in a position that expressed _sleep_ and _do not disturb_ , stirred and blinked blearily at her. “ _What_?” 

“Jane and I are going to pretend to date on Saturday,” Gansey said. “Just in front of her mother. So that we can convince her to let Blue come with us to D.C.” 

Noah leaned in to Blue, his fingers coming up to twist the bottom of her hair by the nape of her neck. It sent blissfully cool shocks down her back. His whispered into her ear, “He’s speaking in short sentences. That usually means he’s upset.”

And since Noah could basically catch their thoughts, it meant that Gansey _was_ upset by it. Blue rubbed her face with her hands and tried not to groan out loud. She just wanted the next couple of days over with. 

“That sounds absolutely fucking stupid,” Ronan said. He turned around in his seat, examining Blue with narrowed eyes. “There’s no way your maggot brain came up with something this stupid.” 

Adam kicked Ronan’s seat. “Don’t be rude.”

“Actually, I think there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere,” Blue said. “And it was Orla’s idea.”

Gansey made a small “Ah” noise, just as Ronan said, “Fucking knew it.” 

“The _point_ ,” Blue said before anyone else could interrupt, “is that you guys are going to have to act like us being a couple is natural for you guys. And if you dare to mention anything about us faking it to my mom—”

“We got it,” Ronan cut in. He let out a snort. “Saturday’s going to be a fucking wreck. I can’t wait.”

“Ronan,” Gansey said disapprovingly. 

“What? You know how much I love wrecks. Especially burning one’s. And Sargent’s fake-dating idea has _burning wreck_ written all over it.”

Blue turned away to hide her scowl, letting herself be comforted by Noah’s hair-petting. 

When they returned to Monmouth, Adam offered to drop Blue off at Nino’s. “I’m going that way for work anyways,” he said, “so I figure I can take you.”

Blue took the offer, waving goodbye to Ronan, Noah, and Gansey, and quickly transferred into Adam’s Hondayota. The leg space around her seat was perfect sized for her, so she figured that any of the other boys must be annoyed by it. 

When Adam began driving, some mix she didn’t recognize playing out of the stereo, Blue leaned down and screamed into her lap.

Adam laughed. “Everything okay?”

“I just want to the next two days to be _over with_. Why isn’t that any one of our powers? We can control forests and take shit out of dreams but we can’t fast forward?”

Adam patted her thigh sympathetically. Before, she thinks, it would have sent her pulse racing. Now it only gives her the comfort he’d intended, the comfort of a friend. Blue leaned back up, touching her head to check for any out of place hairs. 

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess,” Adam said. “And technically, Cabeswater can speed up time, remember?” 

Fucking magical forest, Blue thought. “It’s actually a lot worse than you think it is,” Blue said. And then, because Adam was the one person she felt she could open up with about this, she told him everything—her actual argument with Maura, Orla’s plan, and Blue actually going along with it. He was pensive as he listened, seeming to drive on auto, and his attention was focused on her story. He didn’t seem judgemental, or angry, which was good, but Adam was also very good at schooling expressions. Just like Gansey and Ronan. Blue wasn’t sure if it was a Aglionby thing, or a _them_ thing. A group-of-broken-boys thing. 

Adam didn’t offer any logical or life-saving advice, though—he laughed. Laughed hard, gripping the steering wheel. “Fuck, _Blue_ ,” Adam said, gasping a little. “What are you thinking?”

“Not at all, obviously! My brain has left me.” 

“I can’t believe you’re going to go through with this.”

“I still have time to change my mind,” Blue said, but she knew she wasn’t going to. 

Adam must have known, too, because he snorted. Blue flicked him on the arm, and Adam said, “Alright, shit, go to work. Vent your anger out on nasty customers.”

When Blue got out and closed the door, Adam rolled down the window. Blue leaned in, resting her elbows on the window, and ducked her head in the car. The sun just barely cut across Adam’s shoulder, and his dusty hair seemed darker than usual. “About the fake-dating thing,” Adam said. “I just want to put it into perspective for you, if you’re up for it.”

Blue huffed but said, “Sure, go ahead.” 

Adam smiled. “Imagine, for a moment, than Ronan pretended to date me only to piss Declan off. How well do you think that would go?” Blue’s stomach twisted, and it must have reflected on her face, because Adam nodded. “That’s what I thought. So that’s pretty much how well I think this entire thing is going to go.”

Blue backed out of the window, watching as Adam rolled the window back up, gave her a small salute, and left. She turned to face Nino’s, the bright, fluorescent-lit pizza next to the name flickering slightly. 

Who knew that in a world full of magic, fake-dating her crush would be the hardest of them all. 

\--

The next day, Blue had another part-time shift at Nino’s, and she was surprised when Gansey came in. She grew even more surprised when he walked in alone, sitting at one of the two-chair tables. One of her coworkers glanced at her, and Blue said, “Yeah, I got him.”

She went over to his table and said, “Gansey, what are you doing here?”

Gansey smiled pleasantly at her, and Blue sort of hated how handsome he looked, even against the grungy chair and dirty window. “Hello,” he said warmly. “I figured this would be a good time to talk to you about our fake relationship.”

Blue would rather have Cabeswater swallow her in a cave than have this conversation, but she figured it was probably the smart thing to do. “Okay,” she agreed. “Want anything while you wait?” 

Gansey asked for a drink and some breadsticks. “When is your next break?” he asked. 

Blue stared at him. She had to process his words for a moment before she remembered that Gansey was very clueless about these sorts of things. “It would be a while, Gansey.” It wasn't technically a lie; she'd planned to take her break later in the day. 

As if on cue, Gansey furrowed his eyebrows. “You can’t just . . . take it?”

Blue could technically take her break now, but the thought of dropping everything for Gansey made her mad. “We’ll talk more when there’s a lull in people to serve, okay?” 

Gansey kept himself busy at the table, flickering through his journal and occasionally scribbling some notes down. Once the after-school rush died down, Blue sat down opposite of him, taking a sip of his water. 

“So, what did you want to talk about?” she asked. 

Gansey closed his journal and put it to the side. “I don’t know how interrogative your mother is with your boyfriends,” Gansey said, “but I figured that we should establish some relationship stuff.”

“Like what?” Blue asked, drinking more of his water. She ignored how his eyes caught on her mouth around the edge of the glass, just for a moment. 

“Like how long we’ve been dating,” Gansey said. Blue’s stomach squirmed, and Gansey’s nose wrinkled, just barely. “Fake dating,” he added. 

“Well, we haven’t known each other for that long,” Blue said. “So it’s not like we’ll have been dating for ages.” 

Gansey nodded. “I figured a month would be adequate.”

“A month sounds good,” she said. “For the, uh, party night, I’m not asking you to do much. I mean, like, all we’ll have to do is hold hands and sit close to each other. _No_ kissing.” Gansey’s mouth quirked. “What?” she asked. 

“Nothing, just—holding hands and being close to each other was exactly what you and Adam did,” Gansey said, taking his water back. 

Blue considered what he said as he took a drink, and she got distracted by the way his throat worked. “They’re not going to compare you,” Blue said, trying to get her voice light. So what, she and Adam held hands? She had liked it. She had liked it a lot. 

“I meant nothing by it,” Gansey said easily. “But okay, we can hold hands and be close to each other. Anything else?”

Suddenly hated everything about this. She hated how business-like this was, how they traded hand holding and arm brushes and proximity over a grimy counter at Nino’s, how this was so opposite of how they actually were. They were barbs, poking and hurting, and then equally the soothing, desperate and wanting. This—this cold transaction of affection—this wasn’t them. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want, Gansey,” she snapped. 

Gansey frowned, his handsome features turning confused. He reached out and encircled Blue’s wrist with his hand, his thumb just brushing over her pulse point. “Blue,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean any offense, I swear. I hate to make you upset.” 

Blue squeezed his fingers with her other hand before pulling away, watching as Gansey sat up in what felt like slow motion. She had to take a deep breath to make sure she was calmer. She felt as though she was going to cry. “I think everything else is covered,” she said. “We know pretty much everything else about each other. Or enough, at least, to last us three hours in my house.”

Gansey nodded, gathering his stuff together. “Orla’s going to be on our side, right?”

Blue considered, then shrugged, giving a small laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think so, considering that it’s her plan and I’m actually going along with it. It’s the first time we’ve been on the same side for this long since . . . I don’t even know when.” She stood, gathering his empty basket and cup. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” God, she felt so nervous already.

Gansey smiled at her—a little presidential, maybe, flashing and strained, but mostly it was warm and reassuring. “I’ll call you tonight,” he said. 

It sounded like a promise.

\--

Orla came to Blue’s door when the boys arrived, but Blue had been watching for the Pig (and listening for it) from her bedroom window, and so she didn’t need the warning. Orla looked extremely nice, with a black pleated skirt and a neon blue tank top, and Blue almost rolled her eyes, except it was very Orla-esque. 

“They’re here,” she said, and Blue nodded and went to go downstairs. Orla looped their arms together and said, “Love your lipstick,” in Blue’s ear, and then, “Remember, play everything cool. Calla, Persephone, and my mother have to be convinced, too.”

Maura was already at the door, opening it up and greeting the boys. Adam presented her with a bouquet of flowers, which made Maura beam. It was a bouquet of about eight red roses, and Persephone plucked them from his hand to put them in a vase in the kitchen. Blue had just gotten to the door when Adam said, “It’s a gift from all of us, ma’am.” 

Maura smiled pleasantly at him and stepped to the side to let him in. Adam gave Blue a small smile, and Ronan whispered to Blue, “Just to get it straight, I don’t give a fuck about pleasantries.” 

“Oh, just go sit on the couch,” Blue said, pushing his arm a little. 

Noah came in next, and as he was equally loved and unashamed, he gave both Blue and Maura a hug. He was more solid than Blue had ever seen him, and when Blue asked him about it, he shrugged and said, “A house full of psychics, I suppose.” 

Maura noticed Gansey standing hesitantly in the doorway, his eyes cutting over to Blue as if asking for direction. “Gansey, don’t be afraid, come in,” Maura said with a smile. She had put up her hair in fantastic braids, her dress long and flowing, with jewels splayed across her collarbone and bespeckled in her hair. She had never looked more like one of those cliche psychic’s that people usually depicted, and Blue could tell Gansey was slightly intimidated by this. 

Maura noticed the empty space behind Gansey and said to Blue, “So, when is the boyfriend coming? Does he not care for punctuality?” 

There was a myriad of reactions: Orla shot Blue a meaningful look, complete with her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised and telling; Ronan made a very strange, strangled noise that he covered as a cough; Gansey made a very small “Ah” sound, like he was going to say something and stopped (this was paired with an awkward jerk of his body); and finally, in those uncomfortable five seconds, Blue managed to move herself from her spot and take Gansey’s hand. 

There was another couple of seconds that seemed to move in slow motion. Everyone seemed heavy-limbed, like moving through honey, and Blue could actually see the moment where Maura’s eyes travelled from Blue to their clasped hands. 

Blue’s hands were already sweating. Gansey squeezed her hand once, shifting his body slightly behind hers, his arm pressing all along her arm. 

“The thing about that, Mom—” Blue began, but she choked, stopping by the look on Maura’s face. She was still staring at their hands, her body suddenly tense. The entire room was filled with a thick tension, like waiting for the rubber band to snap back or a roller coaster to set off. 

Then, suddenly, Calla started cackling. Head thrown back, hands on her stomach, loud, full on, cackling. 

“Oh, I _knew_ tonight was going to be a fun night,” Calla said, laughing through her sentence. “Maura, unfreeze and take a drink to relax you down.”

“Excuse me,” Maura said, casting a sharp look to Blue, and then Gansey, before stalking away to the kitchen. 

“What—” Gansey started, but Blue just squeezed his hand and led him over to the couch. Orla brushed her hand over Blue’s shoulder, and the look in her eyes was approval. 

Well, yeah. Even Blue could tell that Maura was pissed. 

Ronan raised an eyebrow at them and said, “I’ve never seen you so tongue-tied, Dick. Is this how you’ll be on the presidential debates?” Adam and Noah laughed, but Gansey glared at him.

“You try and do this,” Gansey hissed. 

“No thanks,” Ronan said, leaning back. He looked comfortable and pleased, and Blue remembered what he said about enjoying burning wrecks. 

Blue was extremely nervous, stomach twisting and hands sweating. She almost wanted to lean in and apologize to Gansey for her hands sweating so much. But maybe he hadn’t noticed, and bringing it up would only be worse. Who even apologizes for stuff like that? Why was she thinking so much about her sweating hands? 

Ronan nudged Adam’s side, then pointed to the kitchen. “Seems like the congregation’s upset.” 

They all turned to look to the kitchen, where the four adult women of 400 Fox Way were huddled together, talking animatedly, with wild gestures and the occasional raised voice. 

“I think,” Blue said, “that I may never be allowed to hang out with you guys again. It’s been nice knowing you.”

Noah said, “At least your lipstick is nice.” 

All their eyes turned from the kitchen to Blue’s lips, which was possibly the second worst thing to ever happen to her regarding her lips. The only person who made a comment was Ronan, who said, “Does _extremely fucking purple_ really constitute as _nice_ , though?”

Adam looked to the ceiling like he was praying for someone to take him from the place. Blue felt very similarly. 

She leaned into Gansey’s arm, whispering, “I’m sorry about all of this.”

Gansey shook his head. “It’s fine, Blue,” he said. Then, smiling, “I wonder if this is how Ronan feels when he causes a disturbance.” 

Blue laughed. “I’m pretty sure this is barely a quarter of what Ronan feels.”

Persephone came floating back into the room, her long hair fanning out behind her. “Does anyone want a drink?” she asked, holding up a very red glass. 

“What do you have?” Adam asked.

Persephone only laughed, so Blue translated: “It’s alcohol.” 

“Oh.” Adam shook his head. “Sorry, but I don’t drink.”

“Fair enough,” Persephone said, then turned to Ronan. “Somehow I don’t believe that you wouldn’t drink.”

Ronan smiled, almost pleasantly, which is how Blue knew to brace herself. “There’s not a chance in a million years that you will get me to drink anything from your witch cauldron.”

Persephone seemed unruffled and merely turned to Gansey. She said to him, “You have no choice, Gansey, I’m afraid the decision’s already been made.” Her eyes passed over Noah, and she then turned to Blue. “Any for you, Blue?” 

Blue declined, figuring that it would be better to remain sober for tonight in order for her to continue with the plan. Persephone curled her finger at Gansey to follow her, so both he and Blue got up to follow her into the kitchen. The other Fox Way women had mostly dispersed, and Persephone picked up a glass and pointed to one of three choices (all placed in small cauldrons—honestly, sometimes Blue wondered why they even _tried_ ). 

“I must admit I’m surprised that you guys would so willingly give alcohol to minors,” Gansey said, looking at the choices with hesitance. They were all spectacularly colored, bright neon green, a deep pink, and a pitch black. Gansey must have been reflecting back on Ronan’s words as well. 

Persephone picked out a glass similar to hers, only in blue, and poured some of the black drink into it. “We’re fine with it because there are four adults in the house,” Persephone said, handing Gansey the glass, “and it’s better with us than with you guys by yourselves.”

Gansey nodded. He probably thought this was something close to his mother’s fancy hosting parties, where he could nurse alcohol for a very long time, or pretend to drink it, but Persephone stayed where she was, raised an eyebrow until Gansey took a good, large gulp.

Gansey made a face, then said, “That was surprisingly sweet.” 

Blue almost couldn’t handle it—Gansey, wearing a collared shirt and shorts and shoes more expensive than some furniture in her house, who usually drank only fine, majorly aged whiskey, drinking some random concoction of drinks that one of her relatives had whipped up. 

Gansey took another sip, this time more delicate. 

Calla came into the room, glancing at the drink in Gansey’s hand, and said to Blue, “Your mother would like to speak to you in the backroom.”

Blue froze for a moment, swallowing, and Gansey pressed against her arm again. His body heat reminded her of everything she was supposed to do tonight—of what _she and Gansey_ were supposed to look like to everyone. So she turned to Gansey, said, “I’ll be right back,” and when she walked away, made sure to let their fingers linger. A small, private smile lit Gansey’s face, almost too intimate to be shared with Calla and Persephone as well. Blue’s breath caught in her throat, and she had to remind herself for a moment that this wasn’t real. 

Maura was clutching tightly onto her drink when Blue walked into the backroom, and upon seeing her, Blue said, “I can explain.”

“You’d better,” Maura said, “because I am dying to know how you came to date the boy you know you’re going to kill.”

Blue stiffened. “We don’t know that.”

“Oh, Blue—”

“And even if—what does it matter? I’d rather be with him and have good memories than be hurt the entire time up until his death. Isn’t that better?”

“Do _not_ think you can pull the ‘isn’t it better to love him now’ argument on me,” Maura said. “You say it as someone who’s on the beginning of that argument. Take it from someone who did love someone only for them to leave—the pain can be _unimaginable_ , Blue. And when your father left, at least I had you. What are you going to have of him besides the memories?” 

Blue dug her hands into the pockets of her dress, clenching her hands to fists. “I’ll have Adam and Noah and Ronan,” she said fiercely. “I’ll have a summer and a true love I’ll never regret. And for the love of anything you believe in, Mom, Gansey and I are _not_ you and Buttercup. If the only reason you’re against Gansey and I dating is because you’re trying to protect me from the heartache you felt—you’re not doing any of us any favors.” 

Maura was quiet for a moment, before saying steadily, “If you kiss him, he’ll die.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not going to kiss him, isn’t it?” Blue said. “I know us teenagers are supposed to be sex-crazed or whatever, but it is actually possible to date without kissing. Gansey and I have perfected it.”

Maura turned her head away, her hand clenching and unclenching around her glass. She stared out at the garden without saying anything, so Blue said, “I’m going to go back to the boys.” 

Blue went back into the living room, pausing for a moment when she had to decide where to go. Noah, Jimi, and Persephone were talking over by the front door. Orla and Calla were talking to Ronan, Gansey, and Adam, and they all listened with rapture to what they were saying. Gansey caught Blue’s eyes, a grin on his face. It disappeared when he saw how upset she was, and he got off the couch and came over to her. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. When he frowned, he got one small wrinkle between his eyebrows, and it was horrendously cute. Blue allowed him to fold her into his arms, and she clutched onto his arms. Sometimes she forgot how muscular his arms were from rowing, and she liked the way they felt around her. He pressed his face into her hair and said, “Blue, are you alright?”

Blue shook her head and pulled him away from the living room, into the hallway connected to the living room. She moved her hands from his arms to his waist and pulled herself closer to him. He shifted his arms tighter, and for a moment Blue let herself believe this—that she was used to the scent of his skin and clothes and it wasn’t something novel to her every time, that she was at home with the weight of his arms around her and it wasn’t something they usually didn’t do, and that the shaky sigh he released into her hair was for comfort and not because he was hurting from this, too. She let herself believe it for a moment longer, clutched onto it the way she clutched onto his shirt, and then let go, stepping back so that there was space between them.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Mom—Mom was mad at me, and she brought my dad into it, and I’m just not feeling great.” 

“That’s fine,” Gansey said. He wasn’t frowning anymore—the one cute crease between his eyebrows was gone—but he still looked concerned. “Is she—”

“Just angry,” Blue said. Gansey nodded, and Blue added on, “Not exactly how I expected this night to go,” even though it was a lie.

Gansey gave a small smile at that and held out his hand. “I don’t really think I can make it better, can I?” 

Blue took his hand and said, “No,” and then let him drag her back to his body so that she could press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she said, getting warm at his shocked expression. He even reached up and touched his cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding hers, and the warmth inside her spread throughout her body. They were blurring the lines here—she could so easily see herself kissing his cheek outside of tonight, could imagine holding his hand while they walked through Cabeswater, and suddenly she was wondering why they even had to fake date in the first place. Why they weren’t dating in the first place. 

All the arguments she’d used for her mother should have worked for herself, as well. 

Gansey led her back into the living room, and Maura was in the living room. She glanced at Blue and Gansey but didn’t say anything, and went back to listening to Adam talk about colleges. 

“Honestly, thank god Adam is here,” Gansey said. “This would’ve been a disaster without him.” 

When they sat back down again, Calla came over and said, “Now, back to the bald dog-sitter,” and continued a story that was clearly for the boys. It took Blue a moment to realize that she was telling stories of the most ridiculous customers they had, whether it be their personality or what their future held. Blue had heard most of these, as she was present for them, and she knew that Calla was making it more dramatic than they actually were. Blue also knew it was the alcohol talking. 

Blue checked around the room to make sure that Noah was doing alright talking to three of her family members, and found that he was talking excitedly with Persephone and Jimi. Orla was standing next to them, but her eyes kept drifting over to their group. It took Blue a moment to realize that she kept looking at Adam. 

Tiny alarm bells went off in her head, and she whispered in Gansey’s ear, “I’ll be back in a moment.” Gansey caught her eye and nodded, and Blue kissed him again, this time lower on his jaw. He gave her a fond shove and she made her way to Orla. 

Orla allowed Blue to drag her away to the kitchen, which was preferable to Blue because no one else was there and preferable to Orla because there was alcohol nearby. Orla gave Blue a nonchalant, “What?” as she poured another drink.

“Orla,” Blue said, “you need to stay away from Adam.”

Orla laughed. “I’ve hardly even talked to him.”

“Orla, I’ve seen how you were looking at him. I’m serious. I’ll even beg. Do not even hint at anything to him.” 

Orla took a sip of her drink, maintaining her innocent expression. “Come on, Blue, you get to be with your guy tonight thanks to me, so you could at least return the favor.”

Blue put a hand to her temple, sighing and trying to calm her thoughts. “That is _not_ the same thing.” 

Orla just shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

Blue closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. Once she’d collected herself, she pushed away from her spot at the counter and got closer to Orla. “I’ll give you one good reason why you can’t,” Blue said. 

Orla raised an eyebrow. “Oh, what’s that?”

“You’ve never been rejected before,” Blue said, and watched triumphantly as Orla’s eyes narrowed. “And I can guarantee that if you made a move on him, he’d reject you.”

Orla’s eyes remained narrowed, and she tilted her chin up. “How do you know?” 

“He’s one of my best friends,” Blue said with a laugh. “I know how he is. I know what he’s like. Do you really want to try it out and risk the possibility of getting rejected?”

Blue could see Orla fighting herself on the option. Orla didn’t want Blue to be right, but she also wanted to maintain her record of never getting rejected. Orla glanced back towards the living room before looking back at Blue. Her eyes weren’t narrowed anymore, her facial expression back to its cool nonchalance, but Blue could tell that Orla was still assessing her. 

Finally Orla said, “Fine, whatever,” and then gave Blue a sly grin. “The lipstick mark was a good addition, by the way.”

Blue furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, both at what she said and for the abrupt change of topic. “What?”

“You kissed Gansey on the cheek, didn’t you? It left a purple kiss mark on his face. It’s a perfect addition, and since even I didn’t think of it, I have to admit it was a pure stroke of genius on your part.”

“I didn’t even mean to leave it,” Blue said. “It was so dark in the hallway that I hadn’t noticed it.” 

Orla brought her glass to her lips and took a drink; when she put her glass down, she was smirking. “Well, purple’s a good color on him.”

“ _Orla_.” 

Orla only laughed at Blue, pinched Blue’s cheek, and walked back into the living room, Blue trailing behind her and rubbing her cheek in annoyance. 

“Everything good?” Gansey asked, his tone amused. “Orla’s still on our side?” 

“Yes,” Blue said, settling against his side when he put an arm around her shoulders. “Although I think the alcohol doesn’t really help our case.” 

Gansey shrugged. “I can see why,” he said. “The alcohol is nice, although pretty potent.” 

Blue stared at him. “How much have you had?”

Gansey frowned as he tried to remember—distantly, she could hear Ronan and Noah laughing together about something—and finally Gansey said, “I think three?” 

Blue stared at Gansey with faint horror. 

“The black one is nice,” Gansey added, pointing to his glass, which had some of the black drink still in it. “The pink one is too strong and I didn’t like it, but the black one is so sweet that it covers up the alcohol.” 

Blue shook her head at him fondly. “You’re hopeless.” Gansey smiled at her like she’d just proposed to him, and Blue had to catch her breath and turn away before she decided to pull Gansey back into the hallway. 

Persephone was now sitting down in one of the chairs in the living room, and Noah was dividing her hair into different sections. He was humming to himself, and Blue gave him a strange look before turning onto Adam and Ronan. 

“Did he have any of the drinks?” Blue asked, watching as Noah began to braid Persephone’s hair into a complicated plait. 

Adam nodded. “He tried all three.”

“What were you guys thinking?” 

“I was thinking,” Ronan said, “that he was a ghost and ghosts can’t get drunk. How was I supposed to know any better?” They all watched him mess with one of the divisions of Persephone’s hair, making one division smaller. “He seems happy,” Ronan added. 

“He’s happy when he’s playing with Blue’s hair, and hers is barely to her shoulders,” Adam said. “He could be happy playing with Persephone’s hair for the rest of his life.”

“His _life_ ,” Ronan repeated. “Not quite sure that’s what you meant.” 

Adam glared at Ronan, and Blue shared a sympathetic look with him. 

“His unlife, then,” Gansey said. He raised his glass of black drink and said, “A toast to Noah’s unlife.” 

They all watched in amazement as Gansey drained the rest of the drink.

“I changed my mind,” Ronan said, looking back to Blue. “Tonight is a fucking miracle.”

“You _would_ view a night of Gansey getting drunk as a miracle,” Adam said. “As you haven’t seen it before.” 

“I’m a fan of getting drunk. Why should I be the only one to enjoy it?”

“Hear, hear,” Orla said, dropping down on the couch next to Adam. Blue was relieved to see that Orla wasn’t in a flirting mood, but Orla’s smile was still wicked. She had a glass of her own drink, in a tall champagne glass because Orla enjoyed drinking out of them. “Why don’t we make it even more fun?” She raised an eyebrow at them. “Drinking game?” 

They all looked at each other. Blue hoped she conveyed to everyone that this was _not_ on the table, but everyone else looked like they were considering it.

Adam said, “Well, since only Gansey, you, and Noah are drinking, it wouldn’t be that much fun.”

Blue took Gansey’s hand in hers. “I don’t think he should be drinking anymore,” she said, “considering he’s already had, uh, too much.”

“You’re so sensible, Jane,” Gansey said, nodding his head. His glasses were a little loose. Blue could basically feel her eyes bugging out of her head. Gansey was rarely so unguarded and carefree like this, and she hated how good he looked like this. 

“Well, you guys can be the puppets, then,” Orla said, and then called for everyone in the house. “Get over here! We’re playing a game.” 

Persephone is already sitting near them, and she doesn’t move due to Noah braiding her hair. Maura and Calla came in from the other area, and Jimi politely declined from any drinking games. 

“Alright, what are we doing?” Calla asked. 

“I was thinking tarot cards,” Orla said. “We do a reading of one of our young ones, each of us guessing a tarot card. If you’re right, everyone else drinks. If you’re wrong, you drink.”

Maura got up from the table to get a pack of tarot cards, and Calla laughed. “This will be way too easy,” she said. 

Orla grinned. “The point of drinking games isn’t to stay sober,” she said. 

Maura shuffled the pack as she sat down, and she glanced at Blue once. “This _will_ be easy,” she said, but she handed the pack to Orla anyways. Maura’s eyes had caught on Blue’s hand holding Gansey’s, which had caused Blue to tighten her fingers. Gansey made a pleased noise. 

Orla held out the cards to Adam and Ronan. Ronan shook his head, so Adam shrugged and faced the cards. 

“Too easy,” Calla said, sitting back on the couch. “I call first. Magician.”

Adam smiled, and Ronan and Gansey laughed. Blue said, “That’s totally cheating!” 

“It’s the truth, Blue, and if I hadn’t done it, someone else would have,” Calla replied, in a voice that said she was very above this all.

“Alright, I’ll go,” Maura said. “Chariot.”

Orla raised an eyebrow. “Interesting, I thought you’d go for the easier one. Lovers.” 

Persephone declined her say, adding that, “Three is a good number and I don’t want to ruin it,” so Adam chose his three cards. He flipped them over, and they laid there almost in succession: _Magician, Lovers, Chariot_. All of the psychics, including Persephone and excluding Jimi, took a drink.

Gansey let out a long breath. “That’s amazing,” he said, wonder obvious in his voice.

Adam gave Gansey a wry smile. “Don’t be too impressed,” Adam said. “With all the magic focused in the room right now, I’m pretty sure _I_ could guess everyone’s fortunes with accuracy.”

Orla smacked him on the side of the head. “Don’t downgrade our psychic abilities. Ronan, you’re up.” 

Ronan shook his head. “If I didn’t do it before, I’m not doing it now.” 

Adam rolled his eyes and took the cards from Orla. He shuffled them a couple of times before facing them towards Ronan. “You can call them out,” he told the Fox Way women.

Ronan stared at Adam with a challenge in his eyes, and he almost seemed to snarl, but he didn’t do anything. Orla called out, “Lovers,” and Calla laughed and said, “Oh, love is in the air tonight, isn’t it, Maura?” While Calla and Maura considered what to say, Persephone chimed in, “Judgement.”

“That’s a good one,” Calla said. “Sorry, Maura, but you’re out. I’m going with Justice.” 

For a moment, Ronan lifted his chin and looked like he wasn’t going to move at all. Then Gansey said, “Ronan, don’t be a party pooper.”

Blue stared at Gansey in shock; her expression seemed to be mirrored on everyone’s faces. Then Noah started laughed, and Blue felt laughter bubble up inside of her. She pressed her face into Gansey’s shoulder and shook with laughter. 

“Only for you, Gansey,” Ronan said, his expression of incredulity turning into mischief, and Blue was pretty sure he was going to hold this over Gansey’s head for a long time. 

Ronan picked his three cards, and to no one’s surprise, everyone had guessed correctly. Ronan looked at the cards with indifference, everyone drank what they were supposed to, and Adam reshuffled them and handed them back to Orla.

The pack eventually made its way to Gansey, with a shuffle for every psychic it went through, so Blue held them in her lap while everyone guessed. 

At first, there was a large pause around the room. Blue knew where the hesitation came from: did they start from the glaringly obvious one, Death, or the other glaringly obvious one, Lovers? No one wanted to mention Death in front of Gansey, but no one wanted to mention Lovers in front of Maura. They were at a stand still.

Finally Persephone leaned forward, her hair in a long braid. Noah was already undoing the braid and starting a new one. “We all meet our graves,” she said. “Death it is.”

Gansey didn’t seem fazed by this; only nodded and looked to the other three women. Orla glanced at Maura and said, “Strength.”

Calla shook her head. “World.”

“World?” Orla repeated. “I don’t think so. I’m sticking with Strength.” 

They all looked at Maura. She assessed Gansey once and said, her voice so even it was hard to tell her thoughts, “Lovers.”

Gansey picked his three cards. _Death_ was the first turned over, _World_ was next (“I told you,” Calla said victoriously, while Orla hissed through her teeth), and the last one turned over wasn’t, surprisingly, _Lovers_. Blue stared at the card and was scared to look up and everyone else’s faces, especially her mother’s. Gansey inhaled sharply when it was turned over, and his hand squeezed Blue’s so tightly she thought she would lose all circulation in it. 

“Well,” Calla said eventually, “there goes any argument you had against him, Maura.”

The card was a _Page of Cups_. 

“My, what a riveting drinking game!” Orla exclaimed, coming off the couch to snatch the pack of cards from Blue’s hand. Blue let her take it easily, and when she met Orla’s eyes, she couldn’t read the message Orla was trying to communicate to her. “I think that concludes this fun session,” Orla said, and Maura was already standing from the couch and leaving.

Gansey leaned in close to Blue’s ear. “We,” he said, “have done a fantastic job, and half of it was without even trying.”

Blue turned to him, looking at the soft smile on his mouth and wanting to disappear into her room. This had gone too far, she realized, and there was no way Orla had managed to plan this, no way she rigged this. The weight of everything that happened hit her, and Blue didn’t know whether she wanted to yank her hand from Gansey’s or pull him closer.

Calla stood after draining the rest of her cup. “I think this is a good time to shut this party down,” she said. “It’s almost eleven-thirty and I don’t think anything could make this party better than it’s already been. Boys—thank you so much for coming.” She paused, then said, “I’ve been told that Gansey is staying the night. The rest of you, however . . .” Calla sent significant looks to Adam, Ronan, and Noah, and then swept from the room. 

Orla smiled apologetically at them, but they all just shrugged. Orla took their glasses and went into the kitchen.

“I’ll drive, since Gansey is not fit to be driving right now,” Ronan offered.

“Oh, _no_ ,” Gansey exclaimed, sitting up straighter. “No, no, _no_. That’s so not happening. Adam is driving the Pig. I trust Adam. Adam—Adam, promise me you won’t let Ronan drive the car. I beg you.” 

Adam laughed. “We’ll take Ronan’s car, Gansey, it’ll be fine.” Blue stood, shaking Gansey’s hand from her own, and went to hug them both (“Yes, you too,” she’d said to Ronan, in a tone that forbade any disagreement, and it was a stiff hug, but Ronan was so much larger than her that it felt nice anyways). 

As Adam and Ronan left, after thanking all the Fox Way women for inviting them, Gansey called after them, “Adam! Please! Remember our promise! Remember—”

Blue slipped her arm through Gansey’s. “Gansey, he’ll keep the promise,” she said. Gansey was looking at the window with narrowed eyes, like he was planning on going over to it and checking to make sure it was Adam who got in the driver’s seat. She tugged him on his arm and pulled him to the kitchen, making sure it was relatively empty (it was just Persephone and Noah), and gave Gansey a glass of water to drink.

“My mouth tastes funny,” Gansey said, draining the glass of water with surprising speed.

“I wonder why,” Blue said. “Drink up.”

Persephone laughed at something Noah said before telling him to get lost. Noah told her goodbye and came over to Blue. 

“We should do this again,” he said with obvious cheer. He glanced back at Gansey, who was asking for something to snack on really quickly, and grinned at Blue. “Definitely should do this again,” he said. He hugged her goodbye and then disappeared. 

Blue let Gansey munch on some crackers in the kitchen. Orla came in and beckoned Blue over, so Blue huddled with her in the corner. 

“Tonight was officially a success,” Orla said, smiling at Blue. It was a genuinely happy smile, and not for any other reason than she and Blue had done something, successfully, on the same team. 

Blue felt her throat choke up a little. She didn’t want to tell Orla that it may have succeeded with Maura but it failed with her and Gansey—in the end, her fear of being hurt hadn’t come true. It was more the knowledge that she’d used Gansey, the fact that it had worked too well. Much too well. 

Blue gave Orla the best smile she could. “It was a success,” she said.

Orla’s smile softened. She plucked at the front of Blue’s shirt and said, “It felt like old times, didn’t it? You and I planning something together?”

Blue’s smile became more genuine. “Yeah, it did. It was nice.”

Orla pulled on a tuft of Blue’s hair and said, “I’m gonna head up to bed now. Make sure that if he pukes on anything, it’s not my stuff, okay?”

Blue rolled her eyes, wishing Orla a goodnight, and turned back to Gansey in the kitchen. Persephone was talking with him and sharing his crackers, and Gansey was nodding his head with absolute sincerity. Blue walked over to them, stealing a cracker as well, and said, “I think it’s time Gansey got to bed, Persephone.” 

Persephone gave Blue a small smile and told Gansey, “You can add mint if you want but _only_ if it goes well with the fruit you already added.” 

“Got it,” Gansey said. 

Persephone smiled, pleased, and swept out of the kitchen.

Blue raised her eyebrow at Gansey. “What was that?”

“She was telling me how to make some of the alcohol served tonight.”

“Damn it.” Blue pointed a finger at Gansey. “You are not having anything my relatives make ever again.”

Gansey glanced down at the package of crackers in his hand. “Including this?”

Orla owed Blue so much for this, Blue thought, until she remembered that she had gotten herself into it as well. She told Gansey, “You can keep the crackers,” but he apparently decided he’d had enough, because he twisted the top and put the crackers gently down on the counter.

“I’m feeling way better,” he told her, reaching out and taking her hand. She glanced down in surprise, because they didn’t need to be pretending anymore, but Gansey didn’t seem to be thinking about that. “Now that I’ve got food in me and a little bit of water, I’m feeling more sober.” Gansey frowned down at Blue for a moment. “Do you think your family puts magic in the drinks at all? I’m getting the feeling there was less alcohol in there than I thought, and I only thought I was that drunk. You know. Placebo.” 

“They’re psychics, not magicians,” Blue said dryly. “And I don’t know how drunk ‘that drunk’ is for you, but you were there. Are there? I can’t really tell.”

Gansey said, “I’m usually a little better at keeping it, you know, unnoticeable. I’ve been drinking since I was about fourteen, so my tolerance level is pretty high. If my parents ever saw me drunk at one of their parties, they would’ve killed me.”

Gansey was still at least a little drunk, because when Blue pulled him out of the kitchen, he stumbled a little as he walked. 

“By this level of drunkenness, I’m usually sitting down,” Gansey said, “and the older men have taken out their cigars and started talking in the study.”

Blue couldn’t really dignify that with a response—it wouldn’t mostly come out as mocking ( _cigars in the study_ )—and continued to her room. She figured that everyone would expect Gansey to sleep in her bedroom anyway, and if they’re mad in the morning, they should’ve been here when they went to bed.

Gansey said, “Oh, God, stairs,” when they reached them, but he managed to go up them without tripping even once. Blue applied it to luck more than anything, or Gansey’s strange ability to excel at difficult things but fail at simple ones. 

She led Gansey to her room, and when they entered, Orla came in from the room next door. “I have clothes that Maura’s, um, _men_ have left here,” she said. “If Gansey doesn’t want to sleep in the clothes he’s wearing now.”

Blue looked to Gansey, who glanced down at his clothes and shrugged. “Sure, I’ll take them.”

“And there’s extra toothbrushes under the sink just in case there are _more_ of Maura’s men,” Orla said. She raised her eyebrows when Gansey began unbuttoning his shirt. “I think I’ll . . . leave you to it.” She winked at Blue as she left.

If it had been in any other situation, Blue would be flushing: Orla teasing her and a shirtless Gansey in her room. As it was, all Blue could do was close the door behind Orla and turn to help Gansey out of his shirt.

Gansey, apparently, was fine on his own, since he was unbuttoning the shirt with perfect ease. 

Blue shook her head at him. “I don’t understand you,” she said. “You can walk up stairs and unbutton your shirt when you’re drunk, but you can’t walk.” Gansey was already at the last button, and his shirt was open enough so that she could see his chest underneath, slightly defined and toned. She threw the other shirt at him. “I’m going to brush my teeth,” she told him.

What she really did was unclip her hair, wipe off the lipstick, brush her teeth, and then splash her face a couple hundred times to make herself realize that all of this had been real. She had really pretended to fake date Gansey, and she had _survived_ it. 

As she left the bathroom, Gansey was waiting outside. “I already got your toothbrush out,” she said. “It’s the orange one on the left. Like the Pig.”

Gansey beamed at her. “Blue, you’re a darling.” He brushed a strand of her hair as she walked past, and Blue felt herself flush.

By the time Gansey returned from the bathroom, Blue was already in bed. She didn’t really have a side, as she usually just slept anywhere, but this time she pulled herself over to the far edge and waited until Gansey returned. When he entered the room, he closed the door behind him a little too loudly, and he whispered, “Sorry,” in a pained voice. He managed to find his way to the bed and slide underneath the covers. Blue closed her eyes and wished for sleep to come as quickly as possible. 

Gansey interrupted that wish. “I think we convinced them that we’re dating,” he said, “but I’m not quite sure how well your mother is going to receive, ah, another invitation to Washington, D.C., considering her reaction tonight.”

Blue let out a long breath and replied back with a shaky, “Yeah, I think that’s a goner.” 

Gansey didn’t seem upset at that—maybe the alcohol still. He said, “Goodnight, Blue,” and pulled the covers up higher.

Blue stared at her ceiling for a good amount of time, only aware of her heartbeat, which seemed particularly loud and fast considering that she was trying to fall asleep. Her heartbeat should be slowing down, not speeding up, but she was also hyper aware of Gansey’s arm on top of the covers, his fingertips near her hip. 

She turned on her side and watched his profile for a long moment. She could hardly make it out, but she could imagine it just as clearly. The only thing illuminated was his hands by the streetlamp outside, and even then the light was musty and orange. 

Blue let herself think on the night as Gansey’s breath seemed to slow down. It hadn’t been absolutely horrible, and Orla was right in that it was a success at pissing off Maura, but she kept coming back to Gansey’s words, “ _I think we convinced them that we’re dating_.” They hadn’t just convinced them—her mother, her relatives—but _herself_ as well. 

If she truly thought about it, there was no true reason why she and Gansey weren’t dating. If she took out her cursed lips, there was simply no reason why. They weren’t trying to hide it from Adam anymore, because they’d just paraded their relationship—even if it was fake—in front of him, and he was hardly bothered by it. 

All the arguments she’d used against her mother should have been enough to convince herself as well. The only pain she had tonight was only because she and Gansey were faking their relationship. If they had been real—Blue didn’t have to kiss him, she didn’t need Gansey’s kiss to date him, and she believed he thought the same—she would’ve been perfectly happy the entire night, Washington D.C. be damned. 

It was a startling revelation, and she realized that it _shouldn’t have been_. 

Blue said, “Gansey.” He didn’t stir, and she wondered if he actually fell asleep. She reached out for his shoulder, grabbed his bicep instead, and shook it anyway. “ _Gansey_ ,” she repeated. 

Gansey stirred, already reaching out blindly for his glasses on the side table. “Is everything okay?” he asked. 

“No. We’re idiotic. But that’s okay, because we’re dating.”

Gansey finally managed his glasses onto his face, but they were lopsided. He squinted at her. “I think I missed something in between there.” 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t date for real.”

She watched Gansey go through the same reasoning as she had; first he brought up the kiss, though it was clearly a half-hearted attempt, and when he brought up Adam, he stopped almost immediately before he went further. He was catching on so quick it made Blue want to laugh, but then Gansey said, “Blue, it could hurt, to be so close but never close enough.”

“Yes,” she said, “but didn’t tonight prove there would be joy regardless? Gansey, right now we can’t kiss or be together. That’s two hurts. But if we’re together and can’t kiss, then that’s only one hurt—or maybe, maybe there won’t be any, because the joy will counteract the hurt.”

“Blue, I think your public education is failing you in math.”

“Don’t be an ass, Gansey, I’m serious.” 

“Yes, but can you really think of nothing that will hurt worse than those two options?”

A fear froze her heart. “I will not kiss you.”

“Blue.” She wished it were dark enough that she could not make out his pained expression, but her eyes had adjusted by now. His voice, soft and heartbroken, continued, “I was on the corpse road.” 

“Gansey, _I will not kiss you_.” Her fear was melting into another hurt, one more painful because she had not expected it, had not even considered it as an option: Gansey rejecting her. It would hurt worse, because of the pieces she had of them tonight.

“I trust you,” Gansey said. His voice was fragile and so was she. “What I mean is that I am on the corpse road, and where will that leave you when I’m gone?” 

It was such a near repetition of Maura’s words that Blue’s hurt snarled into anger. “Do not talk your way around saying no for my sake. Do not talk _me_ into saying no for us. We’ve all established I’m going to be heartbroken no matter how this all turns out. Either you want me or you don’t.” 

“Of course I—can you really fault me for being careful?”

She found his hand on the comforter and did no more than rest her fingers on his. “You and everyone else around me are always calling me sensible,” she said. “Do you really think I also hadn’t thought this through?” 

Gansey smiled, small and quick, but even the flash of it made her warm. “Forgive me if I questioned your reasoning, Blue, but you’ve been acting so rash lately—this whole fake-dating thing, for one—”

“I know.” Blue winced. “I’m really sorry for it. The truth is, Gansey, that I wasn’t doing it to persuade her to go to Washington. I was doing it to get back at my mother.”

Gansey nodded. “Honestly, I knew Washington was over when I walked through the door.” 

“And I may be grounded for ages after this. I mean, _ages_.” 

Gansey laughed, his real boyish one. “So our first official date won’t be for weeks yet?” 

The ease in which he said it knocked her out. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his shoulder, breath beaten out of her from the weight of his sentence. He was going forward with it—they were going to be together. She laughed a little and wrapped her arms around Gansey, which must’ve been a little sudden because he exhaled like he was surprised. Then he wrapped his arms around her, equally fierce, and just breathed with her. 

After a while, they settled; she found herself still wrapped in his embrace, but lying on the bed now, his arms not quite so tight. Before she drifted off, Gansey said, “Blue, it just suddenly occurred to me that your mother knows a hitman.” 

Blue laughed. “Better get to Washington, fast.” 

“I have a feeling that wouldn’t stop him.”

She snuggled harder into his arms. His arms, his chest, his breath. Gansey. “No, it wouldn’t.”

\--

Blue thought she did her best getting Gansey up early, despite his headache (“Small, but still, ow!”) and down the stairs quietly, so as not to wake up anyone in the house. She only prayed their headaches were worse than Gansey’s, and they had opted to sleep in further. Except right when they’d made it to the front door, Orla’s voice sang out, “Wait a minute, you two!”

She and Gansey halted. Blue hissed, “Orla, this is a stealth operation.” 

“And I love that, trust me. I just want a word. Actually, Gansey, you’re not needed for this, you can go.” 

Gansey took Orla’s hand and shook it, saying gravely, “Thank you for everything,” and Blue tried hard not to laugh at Orla’s weirded-out expression. It would be a long time before he got one up on Orla like that again.

“Well,” Orla said, smiling, a breezy sunflower kimono wrapped around her shoulders, “I think that went magnificently well. Maura’s certainly going to destroy your ass, but it went well.”

“Yeah, which is why we’re trying to sneak out before she gets up. Orla.” Blue gave her impatient eyes, but Orla only laughed. 

“I just wanted to celebrate with you for a small moment before it all turns to those boys again,” Orla said. “Look, we did everything we wanted. You’re not going to Washington, but we got back at Maura—”

“—which she won’t forget, ever,” Blue said. 

“—and most important, Blue, you’re happy.” Orla smiled again and brushed Blue’s hair behind her ear. Blue scoffed and blushed a little, unsure how to take a compliment from Orla, as they felt so rare. 

“Yeah, well. Thank you. Seriously.” 

“I’m the best, I know. Now get out of here, delinquency is still calling your name and beauty sleep is calling mine.” Orla whirled away, her kimono swirling behind her. 

Gansey already had the car running by the time Blue closed the door gently behind her. She hurried to the passenger seat, threw herself in, and urged Gansey to get out of there while they could. She took his hand before they’d even pulled out of her driveway—how warm he was, and how comfortable their hands felt together. Marvellous miracles in the small things.

“I will have to shift, you know,” Gansey set, positively beaming.

“Oh, am I stopping you?”

Gansey glanced at her. “Also,” he said, his smile so full of mirth she instantly distrusted him, “you get to tell the others.” 

Even smacking him in the arm was perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else dying for cdth?


End file.
